The Other Half
by JellyJennings
Summary: Four months after the war the Weasleys have settled into their new normal - without Fred. But it will take a well-kept secret from Fred's past for them to heal.
1. Chapter 1

_It was very fitting, she thought, for the sky to be cloudy and gray today of all days. It matched her mood but even though she appreciated the commiseration she knew he would hate it. He would want a bright sunny day and a hoard of cornish pixies harassing the crowd that had gathered to see him off, so to speak._

_She gazed down the hill where a rather large group was gathered. Bright ginger hair stood stark against the cluster of black cloaks. She couldn't quite make out their faces from the distance she stood but she assumed there was sniffling and tears. A part of her wished she was standing with them but she was also glad that she wasn't. After all, she didn't have to worry about masking her sorrow when she was alone._

_Watching as the coffin was lowered into the earth, it was clear now more than ever that she was truly alone._

It started out an entirely ordinary day.

All she wanted to do was make a quick trip to Diagon Alley. She needed to run to Eyelops' to get some supplies for her Tawny, Hazel, and then to Bender's for some groceries. A quick shopping trip with little interaction. Luckily for her, the September morning was just cool enough that she could get away with wearing her cloak out. It hid her well from anyone who might want to stop and talk to her. She was working efficiently through her short to-do list and hadn't run into any trouble yet. She was even thinking of stopping by Sugarplum's to reward herself, but those plans went up in flames as soon as she saw it.

_Red hair._

It had been quick, just a flash, but she saw it. She could see it again whenever she broke into an open pocket as she wove through the had been months since she last saw that red hair. It had been so long, but with every step she took brought her closer to running her fingers through it again. The red hair bobbed into view once more and she could hardly contain her excitement.

"Fred!" She shouted as she took off. Her hood fell behind her and her loose hair was whipping in the wind. She probably looked absolutely mad, but she ignored the confused looks around her and forced her legs to go faster. She could see shoulders and that familiar bob as he walked. He was so close. "Fred!"

She reached out and grabbed his elbow, pulling him to a stop. Her heart was pounding against her chest so hard she thought it might burst through but as soon as he turned and those brown eyes met hers, it stopped. Her eyes flew towards the now-healed wound where an ear had been. Her eyes widened in recognition and her stomach dropped. She jerked her hand away as fast as if it had been burnt. She took a step back and finally noticed the several perplexed faces framed by bright ginger hair before swinging her gaze back to the man right in front of her. She met sad, knowing eyes.

"Oh, God." She felt the sting of tears burning her eyes and the panic rising from her stomach. "Merlin, I'm so sorry!" She spun around and pushed her way back through the crowd. There were too many people and with the sadness cementing her heart, it felt impossible to breathe. She stumbled into an alley and leaned against a wall, yanking her cloak open and away from her neck and pressing her head to the cool brick.

It was so stupid. She was stupid. She had known there was no way it was Fred. She had watched his family bury him, for Merlin's sake. But she couldn't stop the hope that bubbled up every time she caught a flash of red hair walking around Diagon Alley. She'd been avoiding the block with the twins' shop and she knew she would George walking around eventually but even three months later she wasn't prepared for the devastation of seeing that painfully familiar mop turn around, only for it to be an entirely unfamiliar person.

She just had to collect herself enough to apparate away. At least then she could break down in private.

"Ella."

She squeezed her eyes shut. Of course he knew who she was, probably as soon as he turned around. And of course he followed her. It's what Fred would've done, and he was his other half after all. She took a moment to pull her courage together before turning around.

"George." The last person she wanted to see right now. "How did you know it was me?"

"I saw you at the funeral." He shoved his fidgeting hands into the pockets of his trousers, a sign that he held some of the same uneasiness as her. "You were the only one I didn't recognize so I figured you must be, well, you. I was going to talk to you but you left before I could."

"I didn't want to intrude. It felt weird being there without ever having been introduced."

George's eyes soften a bit.

"You would've been welcomed." She looked away. Ella sincerely doubted she would've been welcomed if she'd talked to his family. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," she answered, hurried. The doubt was clear on his face. "Well, I'm getting there. And you?"

His gaze narrowed on her. This was his first time meeting the infamous Ella and although the circumstances were a tad uncomfortable he had expected a little warmer of a conversation. After all, Freddy had been quite smitten with her and he wasn't known to gravitate towards the proper, snobby type.

She almost reminded him of mouse, a little flighty and ready to run as soon as she got the chance. Looking at her face he saw the dark circles and the cheek bones that were probably more prominent than they had been four months ago. That wasn't too unexpected, after all if anyone could understand downplaying the pain it would be him. Still something else seemed off.

Just then, a gust of wind blew down the alley, Ella's cloak whipping with it. She tried to tame it down but it was too late. His eyes went wide and froze on her abdomen.

"Right, well, I need to leave now." Ella started backing away, ready to turn on her heel and apparate away but he stepped forward and grabbed her arm, tight enough to stop her but not enough to hurt her. Entirely inconvenient considering all she wanted to do in the moment was to leave.

"Ella…" George's voice trailed off as he searched her eyes. "Are you...Is it Fred's?" She had been holding her emotions together fairly well given the circumstances, but hearing him say it made it feel real. Looking at the face so similar to Fred's with that same look of concern he used to get for her was too much. She looked up, hoping that gravity will force her tears back into her eyes and the right words to say would float above her head.

"Did he know?" George asked. Ella met his gaze again and it was like the dam finally broke. The tears ran down her cheeks and she threw a hand to her mouth to try and stop the sobs from escaping with them. All she could do was shake her head violently.

George felt his own grief leering over his shoulder, trying to work its way back into his heart. Losing his twin was like losing a limb. He had tried to bounce back as fast as possible, had thrown everything into getting the business sorted and opened back up. He had his whole family to lean on while mourning Fred but he suspected Ella didn't have that support system.

Fred had said they were keeping things quiet until after the war. He knew the twins had put a target on their back with their blatant support of Harry and Fred didn't want his Muggleborn girlfriend getting any of the flack from it when she already had to watch her back simply because of her lineage. He would bet anything she didn't tell her family about Fred, and on top of that had to mourn his loss with a constant reminder that he was here and now he's not.

A thousand thoughts rushed to the tip of his tongue without actually leaving his brain. How far along was she? Did she plan on keeping it? Was she ever planning on cluing his family in any of this? Sadness and anger filled him.

Ella tried to tug her arm away to leave. It was George's turn to panic. His brother was gone, he'd accepted that months ago, but he couldn't live his life knowing Fred had a kid out there living life completely independent of his family's.

"Do you have anywhere you need to be right now?" George asked, his eyes an open window into the frantic desperation he was feeling. "I think we need to talk."

She wasn't sure she wanted to go with him. It was so obvious, even he could tell. But she knew Fred would want her to. She eyed the hand he held towards her and before she could talk herself out of it she reached for it. It felt strange holding a hand that wasn't Fred's but before she could dwell on it too much he apparated them away.


	2. Chapter 2

It was her first time in the flat above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Tensions were already running high when she and Fred started spending time together and he didn't think it was wise for her to be associated with him. Looking around, the apartment was so Fred. Well-used mismatched furniture paired with walls plastered with parchment detailing product ideas. The occasional photograph stood out. It was such organized chaos and exactly what she expected.

Ella wiped away the straggling tears leftover from her breakdown back in the alley. She hated crying in front of other people, especially knowing that George had felt Fred's death a thousand times harder than she had. They were twins, for Christ's sake.

"Go ahead and take a seat. How do you like your tea?" George asked.

"Oh, it's really okay, I don't want to trouble you," she declined, twisting her hands to try and tamper down her nerves.

"It's no trouble, really, Milk, sugar?"

"Ah...no milk but I'll take sugar." She slid down onto the couch that felt far less lumpy than it looked.

"How much?" She felt her face heat up.

"Um, five cubes." It sounded like more of a question than a request, but instead of the usual appalled look she got over her tea preferences, she got a laugh in return.

"No wonder Fred liked you, he finally found someone who shares his horrible tea tastes." He went to set up the kettle and looked over at her. "Isn't it just sugar water after two cubes?"

Ella felt herself bristle in defense.

"Better sugar water than leaf water," she retorted. George kept a smile, though a little smaller than before. He'd heard that same phrase from Fred dozens if not thousands of times before. While the kettle heated he went and took a seat in the chair across from this unfamiliar woman in his living room. What little bit of tension that had left while on the safe subject of tea seemed to have rebounded in full force.

"It's nice to finally put a face to the name," he offered. "Fred spoke highly of you."

He could tell by the way her face tightened into an almost grimace that it was still a sore subject for her.

"You, as well."

They both averted their eyes and an uncomfortable silence settled over the two. For the whole of the seven months Ella and Fred had spent together, George and Ella had heard Fred going on and on about the other. Of course they had wanted to meet. How could they not with Fred constantly jabbering on about how great they were. They just never imagined they'd meet without him there.

"I supposed we should just get the obvious out there," she blurted out. "I'm about five months along. It's...Fred's, obviously." Her voice cracked as she forced his name out. It felt like ages since she said it aloud.

"And you're...sure?" Even he winced as the words came out.

"Quite." Her eyes narrowed a bit, clearly annoyed at his question. "It's not like there was an endless line of blokes leading out of my bedroom."

George tensed. He hadn't meant to imply that, but this was quite the twist of events. If this was real, it changed everything, a break in the cloud of sorrow that seemed to hover over his family as they learned to live without Fred.

"We can go to St. Mungo's and test it if you don't believe me."

"We probably should," he agreed, rubbing a hand down his face. "It'll take that to convince Mum it's real."

Ella's indignation faltered at the prospect of telling the rest of the Weasleys.

"You're going to tell them, then?" she asked.

"Were you ever going to tell us?" he countered. "If not for today, what would've happened with...it?"

Sadness clouded Ella's eyes again.

"Honestly? I don't know." He wasn't surprised to hear it but it still stung. He didn't want to lose any more of his twin than he had to.

"Is that why you stayed back at his funeral, because you weren't sure if you wanted to tell us?"

Ella started shaking her head as he was talking.

"You don't understand, I didn't even _know_ then. I found out two months after the funeral and I was still grieving. I am _still_ grieving." She let out a short laugh. "I chased you down the bloody street, George. I saw you put him in the ground and the second I saw you on the street from behind I ran after you like a madwoman. I hardly leave my apartment unless I have to and when I do go out I avoid people like the plague, especially since I started showing. I told you I was fine but I don't even know what that means anymore. I hardly sleep because every time I close my eyes I see him. And it _hurts_."

She looked away, trying to pull herself together before her emotions overcame her again.

"I love your brother," she said, her eyes locking back on George's. "He was everything to me. I considered giving her up but the thought of giving away the last connection I have to him...I can't do it."

"She?"

The whistling of the kettle broke their focus, just as Ella had opened her mouth to respond. George hopped up and hurried to get it off the stove and into their mugs. Ella allowed herself to relax a bit into the couch, thankful for a break in the conversation. It was emotionally draining to be there talking through the things she didn't talk about, with someone who had Fred's face but was painfully not Fred. Fred had always made jokes that he and George would have to wear colored collars so that she'd be able to tell them apart but from where she was sitting she couldn't imagine not seeing the differences.

_They were laying on the floor of her living room surrounded by crumpled parchment. Fred was showing her a new type of roll that he and George had developed to put a little pizazz in note passing. He scribbled something down and tapped it twice with his wand._

_"Charta avolare"_

_The parchment jumped to life, folding itself up into a swan. It shot into the air, flying circles above their heads before fluttering to a rest on Ella's forehead. She giggled and reached up to open it._

"What do you think? Think it'll sell well?" he had written.

_Ella rolled over, beaming at her boyfriend._

_"It's absolutely brilliant."_

_"Sorry, can't hear you," he said loudly. "My ears are...sleeping-just use the parchment!"_

_He pushed the roll and quill towards her. Still laughing, she rolled onto her stomach and wrote quickly and copied Fred's charm._

"I love it!" _she wrote back._

_He grinned at the parchment and scribbled away._

_"Charta avolare." He tapped it three times. Ella watched it fly around the room. It was amazing, the things those two came up with. She raised her hand up and the swan landed on her hand and then unfolded it._

"I love you."

_She rolled her head to look at him and her heart just about stopped at the goofy grin on his face. It was infectious. And she could stare at it for hours._

_"I love you too." She reached a hand out and threaded her fingers through his. "So what does George think of it?"_

_"He likes it, it's not inconspicuous enough for note passing during class or anything but it's novel enough it should sell." Fred rolled onto his back and used his free arm to support his neck. "He loved your idea of expanding to different animals!"_

_"I'm glad." Ella winced at the way her tone fell a little flat. She hoped he wouldn't notice but when he glanced a quick, worried look at her, she knew he had._

_"I can't wait until you two meet," he offered up. "We'll have to get old Georgie and I different colored collars so that you don't mix us up."_

_"Like you're dogs?" she laughed._

_"Well, we can't have you boxing me in a dark corner to have your wicked way with me, only for it to be my own twin, now can I? Although, imagine how many women that sob story would get me! Betrayed by my lover with my own flesh and blood. My twin, no less! On second thought, maybe we'll swap collars-ow!"_

_"You are absolutely awful, Fred Weasley!" She tried scolding him, but it didn't make much impact with the smile she couldn't wipe off her face. He watched, still rubbing the spot she'd whacked him, as she got up and made her way to the kitchen._

The clink of George setting down the teacup on the coffee table snapped her from the memory.

"Oh!" She quickly wiped the stray tear away and sat up straight. "Thank you."

"S'alright." He took his seat and watched her as she took a sip. He recognized the lonely look in her eyes. He stared at that same look in the mirror most days.

"Ella." He waited for her to look at him. "I know this is hard to talk about-"

"It's fine, it's just been so long since I've talked to someone who knew him. For the last few months, it's like he only existed in my memory." She sniffed a bit but was determined to keep the tears at bay. "It's nice to talk to someone who understands what I lost."

"He never met your parents, any of your friends?"

"No," she said, shaking her head and looking into her tea. "He wanted to keep it quiet while everything was bad. And then…"

"They didn't understand?" He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

"They're Muggles, of course they didn't understand. I told them there was a war and they asked where."

"What about when they found out you were pregnant?"

She let out a laugh, but there was no humor in it.

"That was after they found out. They thought I was made up the war because I didn't know who the father was and didn't want them to know that."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he sympathized.

"You have to understand, though, they're Muggles. So much of the magical world sounds like fairytales to them. And I didn't make it any easier by not telling them about Fred. I mean, it was seven months and I said nothing. And at the time it all made sense but now…" She trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"You've been grieving alone?"

She nodded, but they both knew it wasn't really a question.

"I wish you'd come to me sooner," George said. His voice was heavy with an emotion she couldn't quite place. He opened his mouth to respond but before he could his fireplace roared to life behind Ella.

"George, you in?" Ginny called, her face sticking out from the green fire. George stood and walked over so his sister could see him.

"Yes, a bit busy right now though." The Fire Gin rolled her eyes.

"Mum wanted me to pass on that Charlie, Bill, and Fleur are coming 'round for dinner next Saturday."

"Seems like you could've written that in an owl, Gin."

"Obviously but you went off in a hurry today after that woman mistook you for-is that her there?" Ginny tried to crane her neck to see who was sitting on the couch. "George, what's going on?"

"Now's not the time Ginny." He stepped to the side, totally blocking her view of Ella.

"Honestly, George-"

"Talk to you later, Gin," he cut her off, then tapped his wand to the mantel. In a flash, the fire extinguished, taking his sister with it. When he turned, Ella was standing and looking at him with uncertain eyes.

"Sorry about that," he apologized.

"It's alright, I should be going anyway, I've taken up enough of your time." She took a step towards his door but he quickly walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Wait, promise me you'll come back." His voice only held a hint of the urgency his eyes did. "I want to help you."

She hesitated before giving a short nod.

"When?"

"I have work tomorrow but I'm free the day after," she said slowly. "I can meet you at St. Mungo's, if you'd like. So you can know for sure."

Right, he thought. The test.

"Sure," he agreed, nodding. "I'm opening the store alone but could get away around half-past two. Things tend to slow down then."

She managed a small smile his way.

"Right then. I'll meet you there." She hesitated, unsure if the protocol for this situation called for a handshake or high five, or settled for a quick nod before making her way to the door.

Once the door shut and he was alone with his thoughts, he found himself gravitating towards his twin's room. He didn't go in there much but he felt overwhelmed by everything he had learned today. Normally he would owl Gin or Ron, hell, even Charlie, to share the burden of knowledge with them but he knew he had to keep this to himself until he knew for sure.

He made his way over to Fred's desk and dropped into the chair. He swung a hand out and whacked his fist to the front of the drawer to his right. When it sprung open, he snaked his hand to the back of the drawer, feeling around for the photograph he knew was wedged on the top. He'd only seen it a couple of times, the first when Fred had shown him and the second, the first time he'd been back in the flat after Fred's death.

He stared at the photo of Ella and Fred sitting on a couch. Fred's arm was thrown over her shoulder and they were looking at each other, wide smiles across their faces. Something catches Ella's attention across the room but Fred keeps his eyes on her.

George had tried to memorize what she looked like, hoping to spot her in the crowd and tell her what happened to Fred. In all the months since then, he had not crossed paths with her once. Not before today.

Instead of putting the photo where he had found it, he tucked it into the frame of a larger photograph of his family taken four Christmases back. Back before things really started to pick up with the war. Back when they were still whole.

He stared at the grinning face of his twin. They were still identical when it was taken. George rubbed a hand down his face and sighed.

"Oh, Forge."


	3. Chapter 3

_"So we'll put the Nimbus Notes by the Daydream Charms and move the Canary Creams to the same shelf as the individual Fever Fudges?"_

_"Sounds solid," George agreed, nodding to his twin. "If you want to leave some room, I think the owl parchments are almost ready for market."_

_"Excellent!" Fred exclaimed as he hopped down from the ladder. "I think I'll nick one to test out."_

_"Going to show the mastermind, then?"_

_Fred threw a quick glance around the store, making sure no customers were in earshot._

_"I think Dave'll be excited. You should've seen her face when I showed her the swan."_

_"Ah, to see the face of the infamous lady-love of Fred Weasley. I should be so lucky," George joked._

_"Hey, now," Fred replied with a frown. "It's not like I'm trying to keep her from you. It's just that with -"_

_"Relax, Freddy, I'm just taking the piss."_

_"I think it upsets her sometimes," Fred admitted. George turned around to the counter and started tallying off the products they had already restocked._

_"You mean she actually wants to walk into the circus that is the Burrow?"_

_"It's not that so much as she doesn't understand why I'm keeping her from **you**." Fred walked over to lean against the counter with him, looking at the parchment over George's shoulder. "Since you already know, and all."_

_George glanced over at him but didn't really know what to say. Truth be told, he was a little sour that he hadn't been introduced to Ella yet as well. He understood his twin's concerns, but it was still odd to know for the first time in their life there was something one of them had that the other didn't know everything about. Although, George almost felt like he **did** know everything about Ella with how often Fred rambled on about her._

_"And what do you think?" he asked, instead of telling Fred what he was really thinking._

_"I think it's too dangerous. You've seen the Death Eaters lurking outside, they aren't subtle."_

_George glanced out the shop window and there were indeed two gaunt, very unwelcoming-looking Voldy-wart cronies trying to look like they weren't watching the shop. He was right, they were rather obvious. It was a snowy January day and while everyone else was hurrying along, they remained still._

_"We've been poking the bear." Fred continued, nodding to himself. "Much too dangerous for her."_

_Fred picked up the small clock kept by the register and studied the time._

_"I'll bring her 'round once the dust settles and the only Dark Lord we have to worry about is that little first-year pest, Joey Peterson, tossing the Instant Darkness Powder around the shop."_

* * *

George glanced over at the damn clock for what felt like the hundredth time that hour.

He'd been trying to do the books for the Diagon Alley shop for at least that long but found his eyes returning again and again to the small clock he kept by the register. He finally tossed the quill down in frustration and leaned against the counter. It was 1:45, less than an hour until he was to meet Ella at St. Mungo's, and that was all he could think about. It's all he -had- thought about since she left his flat.

Truth be told, he didn't doubt Fred was the father. He'd seen the heartbreak in her eyes when she talked about Fred and he'd seen the way Fred talked about her. His twin hadn't bought a ring or anything but George guessed it would not have been too far off if Fred had made it out alive.

The sound of the bell above the shop door ringing tore him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see his sister heading his way.

"Happy Tuesday, brother-dear!" she greeted cheerily.

"Gin," he nodded back, watching as she plopped her purse on the counter. "How can I help you today?"

"You sound so professional!"

"I would hope so, after all this _is_ my profession," he replied, pretending to busy himself with his ledger again. "Are you here to pick something up for Teddy, or perhaps some revenge for Harry?"

"No," Ginny replied, rolling her eyes. "Harry's been quite well behaved lately. I figured I would stop by and check in on my hermit of a brother. I haven't heard from him since he so rudely disconnected his floo."

"The scoundrel!" he declared.

"I completely agree."

She waited for him to say something else and when that didn't work she pulled the parchment out of his hands, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"What's going on George? Who was that woman?"

He felt bad for keeping her in the dark. Ginny had diligently been there for him, helping him right the shop and get back on his feet after the war ended and he was left standing without Fred.

"I wish I could tell you Gin but I can't."

"But it's to do with Fred, right?" she pressed on. George blew out a sigh.

"_Maybe_. And that's all you're getting from me," he added as she went to speak again. "It's not my secret to tell Gin, not yet."

"Can you just...is it bad?"

He felt guilted by the worry in her eyes and moved a hand to cover one of her's.

"I'm fine, Gin. No need to worry. This can only be good."

He could practically see the questions floating around her head, and could definitely see the moment she decided to keep them in.

"So you are coming to dinner on Saturday, right?" she asked, swiftly changing the subject.

"Wouldn't miss it."

"Mum's trying to talk Charlie into bringing his girlfriend."

George let out a laugh.

"We finally get to meet Ursula then?"

"Oh, please, Ursula is so three months ago," Ginny said, her voice very matter-of-fact. "Now he's dating Nari and a little birdie told me it's gotten quite serious."

"Nari, eh? Think she fancies sweets?" George asked conspiratorially.

"Hey," his sister warned, pointing a finger at him. "Don't get any ideas. Apparently he's actually considering bringing her and if you scare her off Mum will have your bollocks."

"Noted."

The bell above the shop rang once again and George looked over to see Verity walking in. He glanced down at the time and saw it was 2:15.

"Perfect timing, Verity," he greeted her. She walked around to be behind the counter, stowing her robe and her bag on a hook.

"If you're looking for a test subject for a product you're out of luck today, Weasley." She donned a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes apron and turned around to smile at his sister. "How are you today, Ginny?"

"Lovely, just popped in to check up on Georgie. You know he's a bit of a shut-in."

"Speaking of Georgie," he cut in. "I've got an appointment to get to. Verity, could you mind the shop on your own for about an hour?"

The woman cocked her head at him, confused.

"Since when do you have appointments?" she asked.

"Since today, apparently," Ginny responded. "He won't tell me what he's up to either."

"Alright, ladies," he said, grabbing his cloak as he started towards the back room where the private store floo was located. "Talk about me if you must but if you're selling rumors to the Prophet make sure I get a cut."

Once the door was shut behind him and he was certain neither woman had followed him he grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it down into the hearth.

"To St. Mungo's!"

He found Ella sitting on a bench in the lobby, unsurprised to see him show up early. What he didn't know was that she had been sitting there for twenty minutes at least trying to decide if she wanted to go through with this. It wasn't that she didn't know what the results would say. It was that it would make it real.

She pushed herself up as he walked towards her, an easy smile on his face. She would never understand how those damn twins were able to keep a calm demeanor when everything was chaos around them.

"Ella," he greeted with a salute.

"George," she returned as she pushed herself up to stand.

"Alright?"

"Yeah, just a little tired. Work has been a little hectic lately." She shot him a quick smile and started making her way towards the right wing.

"What do you do?" he asked, falling into step with her.

"I'm secretary of sorts for a solicitor. I mostly just file but we've been swamped with civil complaints of property damage against Death Eaters. They seem to have left a lot of damage in their wake."

"Oh." His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That sounds…"

"Incredibly boring," she finished for him. "I know. I wanted to be a healer originally but it didn't suit me."

More like it didn't suit her stomach. She had passed her N.E.W.T.'s well and fine but quill and parchment weren't quite as daunting as broken limbs and blood. Even the hospital smell made her stomach curdle. Luckily, this time around if she tossed chunks she could blame it on the pregnancy.

They walked in a comfortable silence the rest of the way to the reception desk where an elderly witch with thick glasses sat.

"Name?" she asked, barely looking up from the typewriter sitting in front of her.

"Ella Davies. I have an appointment with Healer Pomeroy."

The secretary skimmed the diary for the healer and nodded.

"Take a seat, it'll be just a moment."

Ella and George found a set of chairs over in a corner, away from the other patients waiting for their Healer's to see them. The seats were just as uncomfortable as she remembered from the last time. You would think they would want to update the room a bit as time went on but it still looked probably as it did back in the 1930's, with rickety wooden chairs and the ugliest floral pattern going around the top of the wall she could imagine. They would need more than a fresh coat of paint to make it look half-way decent.

"Ella Davies," George said thoughtfully.

"That's the name," she replied, glancing at him.

"I always wondered why he called you Dave when we were at the store. Thought he was mental the first few times."

Ella cracked a genuine smile for the first time since he stepped out of the floo.

"We had code names to throw any eavesdropping ears off."

"What did you call him?" George asked.

"Frank." She turned towards him and her smile grew at his confusion. "Allegedly I overuse the phrase 'to be frank.' He would always get really dramatic and say 'Ah, to be Frank! The true love in your life!'" she exclaimed, tossing her head back, giggling a bit at the memory.

Before George could ask any more questions, the bespeckled woman called out Ella's name and gestured towards the doors that led to the exam rooms. They followed an assistant to the room where they sat for another short wait as the healer worked his way to them. It wasn't a long wait, as what felt like just minutes later Healer Pomeroy found his way into their room, his eyes trained on the parchment in his hand.

"Ella, back again." He glanced up at her. "Still having trouble?"

"No trouble, just wanting to make sure everything's going alright in there." She threw him a bright smile but dropped it when she saw how unimpressed he was by her show.

"And who is this?" he asked, turning to George.

"Weasley, sir," George replied, holding out his hand. "Geo-"

"Weasley? I thought you said he died?" Pomeroy asked, turning his attention back to Ella. She opened her mouth but George beat her to it."

"He did die, Fred that is," George explained. "I'm his twin. Just showing some moral support for Ella here."

Pomeroy paused and looked between the door, clearly thrown off.

"Oh, uh, sorry to hear that." He rushed to steer the conversation back to easy grounds. "So what can I do for you today Ella?"

She avoided looking at George as she explained, "I was actually hoping you could do a paternity test of sorts."

Pomeroy threw another uncertain glance towards George.

"I thought you said you were sure of who the father was," he asked carefully, his voice dropping low as if George wasn't right in the bloody room with them.

"I am sure, but things are a bit...complicated, with his family that is."

"Trying to uncomplicate things before she shares the news," George added.

"Right," Pomeroy cleared his throat. "Of course, we can do that indeed. I'll just need a lock of your hair, Mr. Weasley." He turned to the witch next to George. "And Ella, if you could."

Her eyes widened as he pushed a small glass jar towards her. She threw a questioning look his way.

"We need you to, uh, -relieve- yourself in the jar, if you could." the healer clarified. Ella's face burned scarlet.

"Sorry?" she asked. She would admit she didn't know how, exactly, these tests were run before she came in but she had imagined it was more wand-waving and less cauldron stirring. Clearly she had been incorrect in that assumption.

"There's a toilet down the hall, dear, just hand it off to a junior healer when you're done and tell them it's for me."

Ella stood up as quick as she could with the baby weighing her down. She gingerly picked up the jar and left the room without sparing a glance at either man. She had no problem peeing in the jar but she hated that they knew she was doing it.

Luckily, a baby pushing on her bladder meant it wasn't ever a challenge for her to "relieve herself", as Healer Pomeroy had so elegantly put it. Almost as quick as she left she was back in the room, sitting next to George in awkward and tense silence as they both thought about how the healer was somehow combining their...deposits together. Or at least that's what she was thinking about. George's eyes were as closed off as Fred's sometimes got, where it was near-impossible to tell what was going through his mind.

Before long, Pomeroy made his way back into the room, scribbling on a parchment roll as he walked. Once he was done he ripped a section off, folded it, and gave it to Ella.

"There are your results. Anything else we can do for you today Ella? Have you been sleeping better since I prescribed that last potion for you?"

She tossed a quick, nervous look at George before answering.

"A bit better, yeah."

"Hmm." Pomeroy studied her. "I'd ask you if you're eating better but I have a feeling I don't want to hear the answer."

He set his quill and parchment on the counter and sit in the chair across from Ella.

"A healthy baby needs a healthy mum, Ella," he lectured. "You've got to start taking care of yourself."

"I know, and I am." Her weak protest didn't convince the healer of that and she knew it. He turned his attention to George instead.

"I assume she'll have some help in you as we get into the final stretch here?" Pomeroy asked him. George sat up a little straighter and nodded.

"Of course, she's family." The healer studied George for another moment before giving a quick nod and standing up.

"Right then, I think we're all set. You two leave whenever you're ready Ella, I'll see you back here in two months' time. Nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley." The man nodded towards the pair before leaving the room.

Without looking towards him Ella quickly glanced inside the parchment before holding it out for George to take. She wasn't surprised by what it said, and to be honest neither was he. Still, he wasn't prepared for the way seeing the words written down seemed to take the breath out of his lungs.

_Name: Infant Davies_

_Mother: Ella Jane Davies_

_Father: Fred Gideon Weasley_

_In testing the paternity of Infant Davies with samples from Miss Ella Jane Davies and Mr. George Fabian Weasley it is determined that Infant Davies is a biological match for both Miss Davies and Mr. Weasley._

"So I guess that's that," he said, still staring at the parchment. "This is real."

"Yeah," she grimaced. "This is real."


	4. Chapter 4

They spent the walk back to the hospital Floo systems in silence, both thinking about the parchment shoved in George's pocket. His mind was focused on how he was going to break the news to his family while Ella was more concerned with when.

George had asked her before if she had planned on ever telling the Weasleys about her situation. The anxiety coiling in her stomach made her doubtful it would have been anytime soon. She cast a nervous glance his way as they came to a stop in the middle of the lobby and started wringing her clammy hands.

"So you're going to tell them, then?" she asked, trying to keep the worry off of her face. Unfortunately, she was never good at keeping her feelings inside. George shoved his hands in his pockets and let out a sigh.

"Not today, but they have to know Ella. Sooner or later, we have to tell them." She looked away but he could still see the wheels spinning in her head. "If you're worried about what they'll say...don't be. My Mum likes to unofficially adopt practically everyone we bring into the house. It's like she co-"

"Collects strays," Ella finished for him. She wanted to smile at the memory of how Fred used to describe his mother but it twisted into more of a grimace.

"Right." Now George was the one getting nervous. Ella was acting flighty, the same as she had in the alley. He wanted to ease her worries a bit but knew that was unlikely at best.

"When are you thinking you should?" She was still looking at the people around them instead of looking at him.

"The whole family will be 'round on Saturday. -We- could tell them then." Now that got her attention.

"The whole family?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry. "As in...the whole family?"

"Well, mum and dad, Bill and his wife, Charlie, Percy, Ron and Gin, and I'm sure they'll have Harry Potter and Hermione Granger with them," George listed.

By her face, that was more people than she was expected. She instinctively took a small step back. She was able to stop her feet from turning around and running away but she could tell George was seeing trepidation.

"What do you think?" he asked carefully.

"I'm not…" _Ready_, she thought although she couldn't seem to get the words to actually come out. The St. Mungo's lobby was rather massive and had vaulted ceilings but somehow it felt like the room was closing in on her. "This is happening really fast, George." _Too fast_.

To his credit, he did look sympathetic.

"I know, but with Charlie in Romania and Bill and Fleur in France it's hard to get us all together." He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, although whether it was to comfort her or stop her from actually running away, she wasn't sure. "What can I do to make this easier for you?"

What _could_ he do? She had been pushing this off for so many months that her subconscious had tricked her into thinking it would just be her and the baby. Telling George was hard enough, how was she supposed to tell his whole family?

"I'll be right there with you the whole time," he offered. She looked at him and pursed her lips. Deep down, she knew he was right. And she could remember the immediate bit of relief that rushed through her after telling just one person the truth.

Ella used to get a touch jealous when Fred would tell her stories about growing up in the Burrow. Whether it was stories of he and his siblings playing Quidditch in the backyard or of some prank he and George tried to pull off, one thing was clear: the Weasleys were a close bunch. Her small family of three hadn't been like that before they learned Ella was a witch and things only became more strained after the fact. No, her parents didn't understand the magical world and they didn't understand their daughter's desire to live in what they believed was a fantasyland. And Fred's stories had almost made it sound like one.

_Fred_.

It would be easier if Fred was here.

But she couldn't say that. Because _of course_ it would be easier with him here. And she was sure George already knew that and felt it just as deep as she did. So she settled for saying, "It's just a lot of people who I don't know and who don't know me."

George studied her for a moment. Ella was clearly agitated by the thought of meeting his family. Fred had made her out to be this confident, carefree kind of person but the woman in front him didn't seem to be that. To be honest, he didn't really know much about her aside from the fact that she's carrying his twin's child. A girl, she had said. It probably was not wise to toss her to the Weasleys without knowing more.

"Fair point," he conceded, dropping his hands from her shoulders."We'll wait then."

She gave him a short nod in return but still wouldn't make eye contact. So, maybe she was still uncomfortable being around him. But he could change that. He would do everything possible to change that.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" he asked as he shoved his hands in his pocket, hoping he sounded as casual and collected as he was trying to look.

"Just putting some things together for the baby's room. I want to do it before I get any bigger."

"Would you like some help?" Her eyes widened at his offer.

"Oh, you don't have to, really," she replied, shaking her head. "I'm sure you have things you need to take care of at the shop."

"I know I don't _have_ to, but I want to," he assured her, waving off her concerns. "Verity can manage the shop without me. Frankly, I think she prefers it when I'm not around."

He tossed a cheeky wink her way and managed to get a genuine, albeit small, small.

"Come on." He stepped to the side and gestured towards the Floo. "Lead the way."

"I actually can't Floo into my flat."

"Oh? Is it...broken?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. Could Floo's break? He wasn't sure, but the question earned him a smile, the first one that looked like it had some actual happiness behind it.

"No," she replied, giving a little laugh. "My flat doesn't have a fireplace, and it's in Muggle London so I have to use my door at least enough so that my neighbors know I'm still alive. Otherwise, they call the landlord and he wants to come in and I have to try and hide the moving pictures because unfortunately, Muggle technology hasn't caught up with that so it becomes...hard to explain."

George let out a laugh.

"Yeah, I'm sure it does." He held out his arm towards her, and her hesitation to take it didn't last near as long as the last time. Ella turned them on the spot and when George opened his eyes they were standing in an alley.

She gave him a quick smile as she started walking out of the alley. As he followed her to the sidewalk, George was taken aback by the bustling Muggle street. He didn't venture out of the Wizarding world often enough to be used to the cars speeding past or the weird pocket-sized telephones they carried with them. He was also skeptical of the towering brick-fronted buildings that were allegedly kept up without the help of magic.

Ella led him across the street and into a tall, drab-looking building. George started towards the lifts. He wasn't the biggest fan of the contraptions and glad the only time he ever really had to use one was if he was stopping by his dad's office in the Ministry - something that really didn't happen often.

He only made it a couple of steps before Ella grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the stairs.

"You don't want to go in there," she warned. "It likes to stick between floors sometimes. Best just to walk up."

Walking up had sounded sensible when she said it but four flights up he was questioning if it would've been better to risk it with the lift.

"Is it much further?" he asked, trying not to reveal how out-of-breath he felt.

"Just two more floors," she called back cheerfully from several steps ahead of him.

"Should you be walking up here in your condition?"

"Can't say for sure," she shrugged. "But trust me when I say it beats being stuck in the lift with Mr. Howard. Lovely man but he doesn't seem to care about basic hygiene. Or that beer isn't a socially acceptable cologne."

Ella stopped at the next landing and looked back at him, concern etched across her face.

"Are you going to be alright? We can take a break if you'd like," she offered.

"Just more physical activity than I've had to do lately," he replied lamely before trying to disguise a heaving breath as a cough. It didn't help that the stairwell was so stuffy and dark. He could practically smell the mold in the air. And her flat wasn't much better.

Although a different color, the paint was peeling all the same. It was small and dated, with just enough light coming through the tiny windows that it wasn't depressingly dark. His eyes were instantly drawn to the comfortable-looking brown couch across the room. He'd seen it before, in the only picture he'd seen of his brother and Ella.

Looking around, it was clear Ella had tried to make the dingy flat homier. The couch sat over a bright blue shaggy rug and a telly was placed on a cabinet a few feet away and in between the two sat a coffee table holding a small cactus and a medium-sized cat, who looked entirely uninterested in their sudden appearance in the flat.

Ella locked the door behind them and then walked over to the kitchen and set her keys on the counter.

"Sorry it's a bit dingy," she said, pursing her lips.

"I think it's quite nice," he said, although he wasn't sure how convincing of a lie that was.

"It's shit, actually, but it's cheap and I'm pretty sure half the tenants are into some sketchy business so my landlord doesn't ask a lot of questions and my neighbors mind their own," she rambled. "I normally don't care about how it looks because it's only me and Lucy here. Lucy's the cat. Fred would stop by, but he was always trying to get me to move."

Ella crossed the flat to a narrow hallway and gestured for George to follow.

"The stuff is back here."

George followed dutifully but slowed down a bit as he took in the several photographs, magical and not, that lined her walls. He lingered a bit longer on one of Fred holding a grumpy looking Lucy.

"Why did Fred want you to move?" he asked as he followed her into the room at the end of the hall.

"Mostly the sketch factor, plus the landlord's a bit of creep and he didn't like that, but the baby bump thankfully put an end to that." Ella walked over to study a stack of large boxes piled in a corner. "I've got a crib and a changing table here but I'm not sure where to start."

"Does it matter? It should just be a quick spell, right?" he asked.

"It's Muggle furniture, I'm not the best with spells that have a practical use, as it were," she threw an apologetic look his way. "But I can whip up a mean Draught of Peace or Confusing Concoction. Always was better at potions."

"I can take a crack at it," he volunteered. Ella considered it. On one hand, it would make things go by much quicker but on the other hand, the Muggle in her was still skeptical about using magic for tasks like this.

"I thought I'd try to do it by the instructions. Think you're up for it?"

"Well, Ella, I must confess I've never put furniture together the Muggle way but how hard can it be?"

Of course, those would be famous last words. Two hours later they were done with the crib but the changing table was giving them some trouble.

"I don't understand where this drawer goes," George mused, holding the piece in the air and flipping it around, hoping some clearer instructions were etched somewhere on the wood. "Are you sure this is meant to be in the box? Maybe you don't need it."

Ella let out a deep sigh.

"I need it if only to store what's left of my sanity." She tossed down the stupid L-shaped tool that had come in the box. "This is maddening. I understand why my parents used to get into an argument every time my dad insisted on doing this instead of having it delivered whole."

George flipped the table upside-down and started tinkering with it again.

"Is that why they're not helping you put it together?" he asked, glancing up at her before refocusing on the task at hand.

"Not quite." Ella picked up the instruction manual and started leafing through it again. "They weren't exactly thrilled when I broke the news, and then when I started spouting off about a war and Fred, they sent me to a shrink, and then another shrink, and then it became clear we were not on the same page about all of this. That was a month ago, and here we are."

"Ella, I'm gonna give it to you straight." He picked up the L-shaped piece of metal that Ella had given up on. "That sounds awful."

"This whole year has been awful so far, so at least it's consistent." She absently put a hand on her stomach. "Who doesn't love isolation and blowing up like a balloon."

"A what?"

"It's like a bubble made out of rubber. Any closer to that drawer?"

"It's coming along. How did you get this stuff up here anyhow? I was only around your healer for a short time but something tells me he wouldn't want you walking up a hundred flights of stairs, with or without lugging boxes with you."

"I paid some kids from up the hall to help me." She wrinkled her nose at the memory. "We had to take the lift."

She watched him as he tried to work out the directions once more. Despite the fact that it was slow-going he looked cool as a cucumber. If Fred were there, she was sure he'd be furrowing his brow, glaring at the wood, and cursing every few seconds.

The pang of loneliness that always came with thoughts of Fred stung her harder than usual. When George first offered to help her put together the furniture she had been apprehensive, to say the least. After spending a couple of hours chatting while they tried to outsmart the Muggle instructions she felt more at ease with him. He was exactly like Fred said: level-headed and focused with a quick wit.

As he slid the drawer into the changing table with a triumphant grin, the thought of sitting in her empty flat all alone was more dismal than usual.

George flipped the table on its legs and looked at her smiling.

"Sorted. That wasn't too bad, ay?"

"Thanks to you. I think we found your Muggle career if the whole magical pranks thing doesn't work out for you."

"Right, well, let's hope it doesn't come to that." George pushed himself off of the floor and reached a hand out to Ella. For once, she didn't hesitate before grabbing it, and he pulled her to her feet.

"Thank you for helping me put this together. I don't know if it went any quicker but it wasn't as frustrating."

Ella rambled on about the useless excuse of an instruction manual as the pair made their way back up the hallway. It was still odd for him to walk by all of these photos of his twin that he'd never seen before. A wall full of memories that George had no idea of. It's something that had been playing on his mind since the moment he'd stopped Ella in the alley.

"Do you have a busy week ahead?" she asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Nah, not really. We're still trying to build the business back up so it's a tad slow but we get on." He took a step towards the door. "So if you need anything, just send an owl or pop by. The only thing you'll be disturbing is the dust," he joked. Ella managed a small smile but her nerves were going haywire on the instead.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Right then." George nodded and turned towards the door. "I'll be seeing y—"

"Are you busy day after next?" she blurted out. "Thursday?"

George turned back around and met her with a surprised look.

"Not that I know of."

"Do you want to come over for dinner?" she rushed out. "I don't have any more furniture to put together but I can offer Chinese takeaway as a thank you for today."

A smile broke across his face and he nodded.

"Sure, Ella. I'd like that."


End file.
